Some Dog
by SoraliaRyujin
Summary: The Marines are searching for an escaped convict disguised as one of them. Gomer's stray dog is the only one who knows where the criminal is hiding.
1. Chapter 1

"So that's the scoop, men," stated Colonel Grey in his matter-of-fact tone of voice. "The local police are going to be leading the search, but we must be on guard at all times. We believe the escaped convict may try to hide in our less frequented maneuver areas. So for this reason, we are going to be sending several platoons out to aid in the search."

With his hands behind his back, the colonel strode across the row of sergeants in his office until he stood next to Sergeant Carter, one of his most trusted sergeants. He continued.

"Now, not all of you will be used in these searches. There is also a possibility that the convict may disguise himself as one of us. For those of you who remain behind, I caution you to be wary of your surroundings. However, be careful not to let any of your men know about the escaped prisoner unless they are part of a search detail. We don't want any stray information to reach the convict's ears. Does everyone understand?"

"Aye aye, sir!" barked the sergeant in unison.

"Good. That'll be all, men."

As the sergeants filed out of the office, Carter stifled a sigh. Just great. As if he didn't have enough to do already. Why couldn't the police ever hold on to their prisoners? The mess sergeant, Hacker, elbowed him in the ribs.

"What d'ya think of that, Vince?" he scoffed, "Looks like a lot of late nights for you boys in combat."

Carter brushed off the haughty comment with his own retort.

"Don't you worry. We'll catch that lousy deadbeat before he even has time to blink."

"Sure Vince, sure. Just like it took you a full day to capture your first prisoner during our last war games."

Crackling with laughter, Hacker hurried away, leaving Carter to sneer after him. That mess sergeant thought he was so great. Well, he'd learn. As soon as it was his platoon's turn to search, he'd make that smart-alec eat more crow than he could cook.

Not long after, a man dressed in a sloppy suit with a black hat that covered his face in shadow stepped off a bus in the center of town. Glancing around for any sign of police, he tucked his worn-out briefcase under his arm and felt in his pocket for the twenty-dollar bill he'd lifted off the woman in the bus seat beside him. With a satisfactory nod, he then headed down the sidewalk towards the nearest army surplus shop, tipping his hat cordially to a passing policeman.

After walking several blocks, he noticed the click, click, click of footsteps behind him. Cocking his head to get a better look, he noticed a stray dog following close at his heels. It was the ugliest dog he'd ever seen, with greasy brown hair lying in mats over its body. One black ear and one brown ear gave the dog an uneven appearance, and a ridiculous grin covered its slobbering face. What got the man's attention, however, was the large drumstick hanging out of the dog's mouth. The man's stomach growled. He hadn't eaten since yesterday morning before he'd escaped the prison. Sure, a slobbery drumstick was less than appetizing, but it was better than nothing. Who knew when he'd be able to eat next? As the dog trotted past him, he followed it into a nearby alley behind a pile of trash cans. The dog, realizing it was cornered, lowered its head and snarled at the man. Glancing over both shoulders, the man snatched a garbage can lid and hurled it at the dog. The mutt yelped as the metal lid glanced off its back. Dropping the drumstick, the dog scurried back where he'd come from, snapping at the man's pant leg before disappearing around the corner. Chuckling, the man picked up the drumstick and wiped it off on the inside of his suit. Sure, it left a stain, but that didn't matter any. He would have a whole new wardrobe after visiting that army surplus shop.


	2. Chapter 2

Gomer stepped out of the Bluebird Café and adjusted his cap. For a moment, he stood awkwardly in the middle of the sidewalk, trying to decide if he wanted to catch that movie after all or just head back to the base to keep reading the copy of the Mayberry Gazette he'd gotten earlier that day. While he tossed his options around, a commotion across the street caught his eye. Two men were struggling to load a raggedy brown dog into the back of a van. The dog, with two ropes around its neck, thrashed and strained against the men. Without looking, Gomer hurried across the street, ignoring the screeching of brakes all around him.

"Wait, fellers!" he yelled, "what are you doin'?" The taller of the two men scowled at him.

"What does it look like we're doing, pal? Giving this mutt a citation?"

"You fellers aren't takin' that there dog to the pound, are you?" Gomer asked.

"No," scoffed the shorter man, "We're taking it to Pamela's Pet Spa for a doggie vacation. Of course, we're taking it to the pound!"

"But you can't take this poor critter to the pound."

"Why not? Who'd want a mangey mutt like this?"

Gomer started at the stern voice of the dogcatchers.

"Shame on you for talkin' that way about a poor, defenseless dog. Why, there must be hundreds of folks who'd want a dog as purty as that one."

"Folks like yourself?" asked the first dogcatcher.

"Well, I don't know…"

"Look, buddy, we've got work to do. Now, do you want the dog or not? If you do, that'll be five dollars."

"Five dollars?"

Gomer took a long look at the dog, which had flopped to the ground panting in exhaustion. The dog gazed up at him with its almond eyes and whimpered, thumping its tail once on the asphalt. Gomer nodded.

"I'll take it."

Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out four one-dollar bills and a handful of coins. The first dogcatcher snatched it from his hand.

"Great. Turn him loose, Larry."

The second dogcatcher yanked the ropes off the dog's neck. Without another word, the two of them climbed in their truck and sped off. Gomer crouched down to pat the dog on the head.

"Now, I hope you learned your lesson," he chided, "You ought to go right on home and stay away from those mean ol' dogcatchers, 'cause I won't be there next time to help you."

The dog flopped over on its side so he could rub its stomach.

"You sure are a friendly one. What would be a good name for you?"

Gomer puzzled on this for a moment.

"I know! How 'bout Grady? After all, you look just like my second cousin, Grady, back home. Well, I'll see you. So long, Grady."

Giving the dog one last rub behind the ears, he stood up and headed for the nearest bus station, since the movie was no longer an option. As he walked away, the dog jumped up and started to follow him.

"No, Grady, don't foller me," Gomer said, "I can't help you. You ought to find some nice family to live with. One that'll give you a nice yard to run about in and plenty of kids to play with. I can't give you nothin' like that."

While he was talking, a bus rolled into the station just down the block. Gomer jumped to his feet.

"I've got to go, Grady. You behave yourself, now."

With that, he hurried down the block to catch the bus.

Half an hour later, Gomer ambled in the barracks to find his friend Duke Slater admiring himself in the mirror.

"Goin' out someplace, Duke?" Duke smirked at him from the mirror.

"You bet I am, buddy. In less than an hour, I'll be meeting with the most gorgeous chick that's ever walked the planet."

Gomer grinned back at him.

"Well, I'm sure glad to hear that. I bet in no time at all, you'll have love knockin' on your heart."

Duke raised his finger in reply but was interrupted by a scratching at the back door.

"I wonder what that could be," Duke mused.

Gomer hurried across the barracks and swung the door open to find the same little dog he'd left in town.

"Why it's Grady!" he said.

Duke peered over his shoulder.

"It's a dog! Gomer, what's that dog doing here?"

Grady wagged his tail so hard his whole body trembled. His tongue lolled out so far it nearly brushed the ground. Gomer crouched down to rub the dog's head while he explained.

"I found this dog in town and helped him get loose from some dogcatchers. I told 'im to go on home, but he must've follered me back here."

Duke groaned.

"Gomer, haven't you learned your lesson already? You've brought a cat on this base, a skunk, a horse, a rabbit, and now you've brought this mutt? You know we can't have pets here. Carter'll kill you if he sees it."

"Oh, it won't be a problem. I just have to find a good home for this little feller since he doesn't seem to have one."

"Find a home for him? Gomer, who'd want a dog as ugly as that?"

"Ugly? Why he ain't ugly. Grady's the most beautiful dog I've ever met. And he's friendly, too. Why I'll bet there's hundreds of folks who'd want a dog like this."

"Suit yourself, Gome. But he'd better be gone before Carter finds him."

Gomer sighed.

"I reckon so. Hey, Duke, could you help…"

"Sorry, Gomer. I've gotta leave in a couple minutes. Besides, I don't want any part of this. The Sarge's been antsy enough today as it is and I'd wanna be the last person to stir him up today."

Without another word, Duke hurried past them towards the gate. Gomer scratched the dog on the back and shook his head.

"Grady, we've gotta get you out of here. You can get me in all sorts of trouble with the sergeant."

He stood up and pointed a finger at the dog.

"Now, you stay right here while I find somethin' to tie you down with."

He stepped back in the barracks and ruffled through his locker. A minute later, Sergeant Carter marched through the front door.

"Where's Masters?" he gruffed.

Gomer gulped and glanced at the dog sitting just outside the open door.

"Uh…um…I thank he's over at the P-ex."

"Right," said Carter, marching out as quickly as he'd come.

Gomer breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out a thin rope.

"I know this ain't much," he said, securing the rope around the dog's neck, "but it'll be enough to hold you for now. Come on, Grady. I know one of the sergeants over in Company A who may want a good lookin' dog like you. Let's go pay him a visit."

Meanwhile, Carter paused on his march halfway between the duty hut and the barracks. The image of an ugly mutt crossed his mind. Without thinking twice, he whipped around and ran around behind the barracks. Gomer started to lead the dog off towards Company A, but a furious voice called him to a halt.

"PYLE!"

Gomer froze in his tracks as Sergeant Carter swung around the corner and ran up to them until the two Marines were nose-to-nose. Carter didn't have to say a word as Gomer already knew what this was about, but he did anyway.

"Pyle, how could you be so stupid? After all the times you've brought an animal in here and caused disaster you still had to bring a mutt on the base!"

"Well, I didn't mean to bring Grady here, Sergeant. I just found him in town and he follered me to the base."

"Grady? You even named it?"

"Why, yes, Sergeant. I called 'im Grady on account of he looks just like my second cousin, Grady back home. You see he…"

"Knock it off! Pyle, you listen to me. You walk this mutt right out that gate and tell him to get lost, you hear?"

"But Sergeant, I couldn't…"

"No buts, Pyle. This is not the time to have stray dogs loose on the base. Now when I get back here, I want that dog out!"

"But Sergeant, I…"

"You heard me! OUT!"

With that, Carter spun on his heel and stormed towards the duty hut. Gomer shook his head.

"You see that, Grady? I'm already in trouble with the sergeant on account of you."

He bent down to scratch the dog on the head, only to find an empty leash.

"Grady?" he gulped, briefly glancing in every direction.

The dog was high-tailing towards the duty hut with part of the shredded leash in his mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

"Grady, whoa! Halt! Stay!"

Gomer scrambled after the dog, but it scampered around the corner of the duty hut and disappeared. A desperate Gomer began combing over the compound, whistling and calling the dog's name just loud enough that he wouldn't attract attention. He became so focused on finding the dog, he failed to notice the open door to the duty hut with several paw prints leading inside. Meanwhile, Sergeant Carter, having to run an errand in town, decided to take a quick shower before he left. Who knew? He may just run into a dame worth chasing. If he did, it wouldn't do him any good to smell like a sweating pig. He unbuttoned and draped his shirt over the desk chair before grabbing his towel and heading for the shower. Soon after he left the room, Gomer's ugly mutt trotted through the door. The dog sniffed around on the floor for a minute, circling the room before coming to a stop at the discarded uniform. Gleefully taking in the salty smell of human sweat, the dog grabbed a mouthful of the uniform and yanked it to the floor. Shaking the fabric like a rat, the dog placed one paw on its prey and pulled, tearing the uniform nearly in half.

Seconds later, Carter returned from the back room. He set his gaze on the mutt with fabric shreds hanging from its mouth and he froze in his tracks. The dog shook itself off and spat out the remainder of the uniform. Carter trembled from head to foot in rage. He opened his mouth to yell, but choked on his fury. The dog whimpered and rolled on its back. His hands still shaking, Carter yanked open the desk drawer and snatched up his pocket-knife. At that moment, Gomer rushed in the duty hut yammering away.

"Sergeant Carter? Sergeant Carter, I lost 'im. I lost Grady. I had 'im when you was standin' there tellin' me to get rid of 'im. Then I looked down and he'd chewed himself loose. I've looked everywhere, Sergeant, I just can't figure out…"

Gomer paused when he saw the dog pawing at his boots.

"Praise be," he gasped, "Grady was here this whole time. Why that sure is a relief, ain't it, Sergeant?"

Only then did Gomer notice the murderous look in his sergeant's eye and the knife clenched in his trembling fist. Gomer's eye dropped to the shredded, slobber-covered uniform by his foot.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant. I guess Grady did that, didn't he? Grady, why'd you do a thang like that? You know you ain't supposed to chew up people's thangs, 'specially if they belong to the sergeant."

Carter clutched his weapon tighter.

"Pyle you hear me good," he growled, "I'm going to count to ten. And if you're still here when I finish, I'm going to turn you and that mongrel into mincemeat."

"But Sergeant, I…" "OUT! OUT! OUT! OUT! OUT!"

Carter lunged at both of them, flashing his pocketknife. Gomer wrapped the remainder of the rope around the dog's neck and sprang towards the door. The dog hurried behind with its tail between its legs. Carter slammed the door behind them hard enough to crack the hinges. Gomer sighed. He didn't blame the sergeant for being mad, after all, that had been one of his best shirts.

"Grady, we've gotta get you out 'o here before you get me in any more trouble."

In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a lieutenant on the other side of the compound.

"Come on, Grady," he said, giving the dog a tug on the rope, "we've gotta hurry."

The dog had also caught sight of the lieutenant. However, instead of following Gomer, the dog stayed rooted to the ground and lifted its lips in a snarl.

"Come on, Grady," Gomer pleaded, "before the lieutenant sees you."

To Gomer's surprise, the dog yanked away from Gomer and bolted across the compound, snapping and barking.

"Grady, wait!" Gomer yelled.

The dog charged straight for the lieutenant, flashing its fangs. Gomer pounded on the closed door.

"Sergeant! Sergeant! Come quick!"

Carter swung the door open with an unbuttoned uniform and a shade of crimson over his face.

"Pyle, I thought I told you to…"

Gomer swung his arms and pointed across the compound.

"Look, Sergeant! Look!"

At the same moment, the dog latched onto the lieutenant's pant leg. The officer let out a yell and kicked at the insane mutt. Carter and Gomer double-timed across the compound. Gomer the rope around the dog's neck and struggled to pull the dog off. Carter grabbed the lieutenant around the middle and tried to pull him away from the dog's grip.

"Get him off me! Get this mangey mongrel off me!" hollered the lieutenant.

"Come on, Grady, please let go," Gomer pleaded.

Finally, they managed to drag the dog off the lieutenant's pant legs. Hardly had the lieutenant been set free when he shouted,

"What is the meaning of this? Sergeant, what is this mongrel doing on a military base? Do you have any idea how dangerous this mutt is, or will it take a cooler climate to jog your memory? The Illusions, maybe?"

"I'm sorry, sir," Carter stammered, "Private Pyle here brought this dog on the base and…"

"Private Pyle? So, you're blaming the private for what is obviously a lack of discipline?"

"No, sir!"

"Then I advise you to remove this mutt from the premises before I remove those stripes from your sleeve!"

The lieutenant stormed off across the compound, leaving Carter sweating where he stood. The dog sat by Gomer's side, growling and snarling in the lieutenant's direction. Gomer opened his mouth to speak, but Carter pressed so close to his face, he had to step back to avoid a collision.

"Don't say it, Pyle! I already know what you're going to say. You're sorry! You're very sorry! Well sorry don't keep the stripes on a uniform! You've blown it, Pyle! I'm going into town, and until I get back, you're confined to quarters! Maybe that can somehow keep you out of trouble!"

"But Sergeant, what about Grady?"

Carter snatched the rope from Gomer's hand.

"Pyle, I've had it with this ugly mutt! I'm going into town and I'm taking this dog to the pound."

"The pound! But you can't take this sweet ol' dog to the pound, Sergeant."

"Watch me!"

Carter marched towards the back gate, dragging the dog behind him. Gomer stayed just behind his shoulder.

"If we could just have some time, Sergeant, I'm sure we can find the feller a nice home."

"Get back in your quarters, Pyle, and STAY THERE!"

Gomer scurried into the barracks, watching out the window as Carter pulled the reluctant dog towards his car, shoved it in the backseat, and sped away.


	4. Chapter 4

"Get back there!" Carter snapped at the dog, which continued to climb over the front seat and lick his face. He cringed as the dog's hair dropped from its body in mats and coated his freshly cleaned leather seats. The sooner he dumped this mutt, the better. Why did Pyle always have to fall for the ugly ones? Instead of rescuing a purebred collie, he had to save this cross-eyed hound. Maybe they shared a brain. He pulled to a stop at a red light in the center of town. Once again, the dog tried to crawl in his lap. He shoved it to the passenger's side with a huff. At that moment, the dog caught sight of a stray cat trotting down the sidewalk. With a yap, the dog lurched towards the open window.

"Hey! Wait!" Carter yelled, cringing at the sound of claws scraping the side of the car. The dog ignored him and instead leaped onto the sidewalk and took off after the cat, barking and howling in pursuit. Carter stared after the animals until they disappeared around the corner. The minute the light turned green, he spun a U-turn and headed straight back to the base.

"Good riddance," he mumbled. Maybe they didn't make it to the pound, but so what? Pyle would never know the difference. It wasn't like they'd ever run into that dog again, anyway.

Early the next morning, Carter stepped out of the duty hut and blasted away at his whistle.

"Come on you people! Get out here and line up on the double! Move it! Move it!"

As the men filed outside and lined up, he noticed the colonel standing several yards away watching him. Beside the colonel stood the same lieutenant who had chewed Carter out the day before. What would they be watching him for? Carter didn't like it, but he wasn't about to argue with the brass. Turning back to his men, he barked,

"Alright, you people, spruce up that line. Come on! Move it!"

Of course, Pyle had to raise his hand. Maybe the colonel didn't notice.

"What do you want, Pyle?"

"Sergeant, I was just wondering what you did with Grady when you went into town, yesterday."

Carter pressed himself close to Pyle so he could look intimidating and talk without being heard.

"What I did with that mutt is none of your business, Pyle. Now pipe down and don't say another word while you're in formation."

"You didn't take 'im to the pound, did you, Sergeant?"

"Pyle, I already said it's none of your business! Now shut up and pay attention!"

Gomer pouted but otherwise obeyed.

"Now listen up!" Carter continued.

"To start the day off…"

As Carter rattled off the agenda, Gomer heard a scratching down by his feet. He dropped his gaze to see Grady snuffling by his boots. He beamed in excitement.

"It's Grady! He's back! Sergeant, you didn't take 'im to the pound after all. Look at that!"

Carter lifted his gaze from the clipboard in his hand and turned pale at the sight of the dog.

"It can't be!" he gulped.

He glanced quickly in the colonel's direction to see both officers staring at him with crossed arms. Meanwhile, Grady thrashed his tail with glee and jumped on Gomer, placing both front paws on the private's shoulders.

"Pyle, what's that dog doing back here? How'd he get back on the base?" Carter demanded.

"Beats me, Sergeant. I guess he just likes us."

The officers were marching over. Neither looked very happy. Suddenly, the dog switched from friendly to hostile. With hackles raised and jaws snapping, it pointed its nose in the officers' direction.

"Pyle, grab that dog!" Carter yelled.

Gomer tried to wrap his arms around its neck, but without a rope, the dog slipped through his arms and charged towards the colonel and lieutenant. Carter could see his stripes fading with each bark.

"LOOK OUT, SIR!"


	5. Chapter 5

Colonel Grey and the lieutenant hardly had time to react before the dog pounced on the lieutenant's back, knocking him flat. The dog grabbed his shirt collar between its teeth and shook it violently. Carter snatched the dog by the scruff of the neck and attempted to pull it off the officer's back. Gomer, leaning over his shoulder, tried to coax the dog away.

"Grady, please stop!" he pleaded.

"Sergeant, get that dog off!" demanded the colonel.

"Somebody shoot it!" yelled the lieutenant.

Seconds later, the dog ripped open his uniform from top to bottom. Gomer finally managed to drag the dog away, though it still clutched a piece of the uniform in its mouth. Carter began to help the disheveled lieutenant to his feet but was quickly brushed off.

"Get your hands off me!" the lieutenant snapped, "Imbecile! I thought I told you to get rid of that mongrel! Obviously, you cannot obey a simple order, so I advise you to head back to your quarters and start packing for an overseas trip to the front lines! And before you do that, you are to take this dangerous animal behind the barracks and shoot it! Am I clear?"

"Oh, no sir!" Gomer pleaded, "it wasn't the Sergeant's fault, it was mine. I'm the one who brought this dog on the base in the first place and if I hadn't done that, none of this would've happened."

"Then you're assuming full responsibility for this, Private?"

Now it was Carter's turn to cut in.

"Excuse me, sir, but that's not entirely correct. You see, when Pyle brought this dog on the base, it was my duty to get take it to the pound, which I never actually…"

"So, you did disobey an order!"

"Well, sir…"

All three began talking at the same time. Finally, Colonel Grey, who had been watching the scene quietly, raised his arms and yelled,

"Gentlemen, that will be all!"

When everyone had grown quiet, he began.

"I believe we ought to settle this situation in a more private location. Pyle, if you'll just find something to tie that dog up, we'll take this matter to my office."

"Yes, sir," Gomer sulked.

"And get my uniform out of that slobbering mouth!" demanded the lieutenant.

Gomer nodded and tried to grab the piece of fabric from Grady's mouth, but the dog refused to let go.

"Come on, Grady, we're in enough trouble already."

To his surprise, the fabric tore further and a folded piece of paper hit the ground. The lieutenant ducked to snatch the paper up, but Gomer reached it first.

"Well, I wonder what this could be?"

"Give me that, Private," the lieutenant snarled.

Gomer started to hand the paper over, but not before Carter noticed something odd about it. He grabbed it from Gomer's hand and folded it open.

"It's a receipt," he remarked, "from Jerry's Army Surplus Shop for a marine uniform and a set of lieutenant's bars."

"Give me that receipt, Sergeant!"

The lieutenant tried to make another grab for the paper, but Carter avoided him and passed the receipt to Colonel Grey, who also looked it over.

"Yes. Lieutenant… you know I never did learn your name."

The lieutenant cleared his throat for a moment before replying.

"Um…Ames, sir."

"Yes, well Lieutenant Ames, why would you find it necessary to purchase these items from an army surplus store?"

"Well…my uniform was ruined during a training exercise, sir, and I needed a new one quickly."

"Then why go all the way to town when you could've easily acquired these things right here on the base?"

While Lieutenant Ames struggled for answers, Grady dropped the remainder of the uniform, allowing Gomer to sift through the pockets.

"Shazam!" he exclaimed.

"What? What is it?" asked Carter.

Gomer pulled out an identification card with a face matching Ames' but a very different name. Carter looked it over.

"Colonel," he said, "That escaped convict you mentioned the other day, what was his name?"

"I believe it was Jonathan DuBois. Why?"

As Carter handed the colonel the id card, Ames made a quick dash across the compound.

"Stop him!" shouted Colonel Grey.

Immediately, Grady broke from Gomer's arms and sped after the escapee, pouncing on his back and knocking him flat long enough for the MP's to reach him. Colonel Grey chuckled.

"Well, men," he said, "I believe you've caught yourselves a crook!

(-)

About an hour later, the police arrived to reclaim the captured prisoner. Before they left, one officer approached Gomer, who stood by the barracks with Grady sitting at his heel. Of course, Gomer had no shortage of words when asked about the incident.

"Well, sir," he began, "it all started when this dog, Grady, follered me on the base. I don't know how he knew it, but he just knew that Lieutenant Ames wasn't a lieutenant but was actually a criminal. So as soon as he'd seen 'im, he just took off and pinned this feller down. Now Sergeant Carter and me, we didn't know any better, so we pulled Grady off of 'im. But Grady went right on tryin' and tryin' until we finally understood who this feller was, and that's when we called you."

The officer chuckled.

"It seems you have a fine dog there, Pyle."

"Well thank you sir, but in all honesty, he ain't mine. In fact, when this is over, I may have to take 'im to the pound."

"What? A fine, intelligent dog like that?"

"Yessir, on account of I don't have anywhere to keep 'im."

"I'll tell you what? Let him come with us! With a little training, I'm sure he'd make a fine police dog."

"You mean it? Well, thank ye, sir! Thank ye. Thank ye. Thank ye!"

Not long after, the squad cars rolled away. The last car held a dog who hung its head out the backseat window with glee. Gomer gave his four-legged friend a goodbye wave.

"So long, Grady! Hope you catch plenty o' criminals!"


End file.
